Revision update

I know I set a deadline of Nov. 1st for revising my novel, but I kinda forgot I’d be out of commission during Sukkot. Now, I’m paying the price.
My tush is asleep. My tailbone is rebelling.
I really want to finish by Tuesday night, but I’m finding the chair at my computer so painful (despite yoga and 600 mg ibuprofen every 6 hours), I’m not sure I’m going to make it. Plus, every time I look at what I’ve already written and supposedly revised, I keep finding more things I don’t like. Ugh.
Self-doubt sets in. Maybe it’s no good after all.
I’m going to try to finish, anyway. What if I spend the next 20 years kicking myself about “that novel I wrote, but never finished…”?

Chugging away

(photo by RJ Stew on Flickr)
I’ve decided to set a goal for myself: rewrite the rough draft of my novel in entirety and hand over to my trusted reviewers by November 1st. Hopefully, a deadline will keep me chugging away.
After the research I did last week, I’ve decided to do a “two pass” method. First I went through the whole thing and made sweeping changes to the structure, made characters, plot points, and themes consistent all the way through, etc. Now I’m doing a line-by-line edit.
I’m very excited but very nervous. What if everyone hates it? What it everyone loves it but no one will print it?

[Reminding myself to reframe:
It doesn’t have to be perfect, just the best I can do right now (thanks Holly Lisle).]

Identifying Your Life’s Mission

Identifying Your Life’s Mission

The above article (by Sara Yocheved Rigler and appearing this week on Aish.com) explains how to find your “tafkid,” that little sliver of the world that constitutes your mission in life. I encourage you to read it before Rosh HaShanah. I found it very inspirational and the perfect complement to a shiur I attended over the weekend.
Rabbi Simcha Weinberg was visiting our shul over this Shabbos. At seudat shlisheet, he explained that the Yomim Noraim (the Days of Awe) are the when we should not only think about what we’ve done wrong in the past year, but what would it look like if we did it right in the year ahead. He suggested that we should not imagine what we want, but what HaShem’s dream is for us. What does He want from us? Then we can establish some steps to take to get us there.
Of course, He wants us to make peace with other Jews (including family members!). Of course, He wants us to improve in how we follow his mitzvot.
 
But He also wants us to be the best people we can be, using our talents and skills. The article by Sara Yocheved Rigler will inspire you to do just that. What gets you excited about life? How can you use that talent and passion to improve your family, your community, your world?

Making Up New Words to Go with your New Worlds

I just finished a sci-fi novel entitled The Empress of Mars. There were many things I liked about it, and one of the things that the author, Kage Baker, managed particularly well was naming all those imaginary new technologies that appear in the story.

Almost all sci-fi stories describe hi-tech gadgets, and if those gadgets are new to your imaginary realm, you have to name them. One of the challenges is naming them in a way that evokes the item’s function, but doesn’t sound too similar to either real-world objects and those that inhabit other author’s books. And you’d better not trample on anyone’s trademark, either. Sometimes you read a book, and you’re lost by the new vocabulary, or it’s clunky and sounds artificial. Ms. Baker did an excellent job of naming things in ways made sense, yet seemed exotic enough to flesh out a new planet, many years in the future.
I have always been the type that makes up words. Long before Frindle, I would spout strange new words that never appeared in a dictionary or thesaurus, but which better described items or behaviors than any word that does. My specialty is turning nouns into verbs, and vice versa. However, my newest invention is “shadebathing.” It is intended to describe the behavior of one of my children, who on a hot day will run into a bit of shade, plotz, and stretch out to cool off, no matter how inconvenient the time or place.
I’m blessed that one of my children has followed in my footsteps. For example, he thinks that the phrase “crime-ridden” should be replaced by the descriptor “crimey.” I voiced the objection that this is too close to the word “criminy,” but he remains unconcerned. “No one knows that word anymore, Ima. Or if they do, they sure don’t use it.”
Naming characters and locations has always been relatively easy for me. I can just make up anything, no rules. However, when you name your fictional gadget, as I mentioned above, you need to balance familiarity with novelty. I find this much tougher. In the novel I’m writing now, I keep picking names for things, then feeling the need to relabel them.
Thank G-d for “Find and Replace!” I seem to be employing it a lot lately.

Self-doubt, or the Intimidating Activity Called "Writing a Novel"

I’m both distractedly excited and painfully terrified. As I mentioned in a previous blog, I’m trying to change a short story I have written previously into a novel in response to the advice of friends and colleagues. I’m completely overwhelmed by the task at hand, but I want to try to get a rough draft written in the next couple months just so I can get these characters’ voices out of my head, at the very least.

If you don’t want to write a novella–you’re committed to a novel–you have to crank out AT LEAST 30,000 words for middle-grade or YA readers, 50,000 for adults.
At the same time, you don’t want to be “bore-geous,” what Ayelet Waldeman calls writing that is long, lush and vivid but does nothing to further the story line. Neither do you want to add subplot upon subplot upon unnecessary scene upon unnecessary character just to make deadlines, fill up a word count, pad the pocketbook, or all of the above. (The latter often happens with books that start as serials, like those of Charles Dickens, to point out an example that will hurt no one’s feelings and probably not constitute lashon hara.)

The problem is that I HAVE A LIFE, and not a very convenient one at the moment. I have more immediately remunerative work to complete, a husband and children to feed (bli ayin hara!). Tushies to wipe! Candyland to play! I am haunted by the desire to fill in the story of these characters, but have been cruelly separated from my PC.
Even when I resort to writing in a notebook while supervising my children’s play, self-doubt leaves me thinking, “Can I think of enough details and plot twists to fill a novel? And what if I’m just plumping this goose up so it’s ready for the rejection-letter-shaped ax!”
Sometimes, I finally sit down at that PC and can’t even figure out where to start. To prompt me a bit, I’m now improvising a bit on the Snowflake Method, invented by Randy Ingermanson. I’m going over every hinted-at back story, every interesting character, every “off-page” alluded-to event that appears in the initial short story and trying to extend, extend, extend. I am now at just under 7,000 words…and I can’t imagine how this baby is ever going to get done!
I know I’m not alone on this. A quick Google search about novel-writing included an article subtitled “The quiet h*** of 10 years of novel writing,” by Susanna Daniel, and a blog entitled “The Long Path to a Novel” by Rachel Connor.
Check back with me in two months to see if I’m any closer to the “Great American Jewish Sci-Fi Novel’s” completion.